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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28695738">Hogsmeade: A Drarry Short</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflepuffingdemigod/pseuds/hufflepuffingdemigod'>hufflepuffingdemigod</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drarry, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, Slow Updates</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:13:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,273</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28695738</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflepuffingdemigod/pseuds/hufflepuffingdemigod</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maybe Malfoy wasn't quite as bad as he'd always thought."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blaise Zabini/Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley/Blaise Zabini</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which malfoy aggravates harry and gets the information he wants</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry's POV</p><p>"Potter! Potter!" Harry groaned, reaching for his wand. He could already see the smirking face and blond hair before Malfoy came into view. Malfoy was accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle, and he was tossing a shiny green apple from hand to hand.</p><p>"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked coldly, his voice dripping with contempt. </p><p>Malfoy scowled for a moment, before smirking, "Well, Potter, you see, I was talking to Crabbe here," he gestured carelessly behind his left shoulder to where Crabbe was standing like a small boulder, "And we were wondering if you would be going to Hogsmeade this year, or if you'd be staying back, all by yourself, again, like the pathetic prat you are. Well?"</p><p>He arched an eyebrow, awaiting an answer.</p><p>"Why do you care?" Harry inquired. </p><p>"That doesn't concern you, Potter."</p><p>"Actually I think it does, as I'm the poor person you're antagonizing about it. I think I at least deserve to know why you're interested." Harry retorted. </p><p>Malfoy sighed, running a hand through his shiny, blonde, perfectly styled hair, his frustration evident. Clearly, Harry thought, Malfoy hadn't expected this much of a fuss. Harry felt some satisfaction at having aggravated Malfoy.</p><p>"Just answer the damn question, Potter." Malfoy spat. Harry glared at him, then relented.</p><p>"As a matter of fact, Malfoy, I will be attending this year, though I still don't see what business it is of yours." For a moment, Harry thought he saw triumph flicker across Malfoy's pale, pointed face. Then it was replaced by his usual smug, self-satisfied smirk, though his eyes glimmered a little brighter now.</p><p>"There, now that wasn't so hard, was it, Potter?" Malfoy drawled condescendingly, making his way toward Harry to exit the corridor, while Crabbe and Goyle sniggered like the daft lumps they were. </p><p> Goyle shoved Harry with his shoulder as he passed. Harry turned to watch Malfoy go, his shoulder now smarting.</p><p>As Harry watched him swish away, Malfoy turned his head, just slightly, to glance back at Harry. He called out, his eyes sparkling with glee, "I suppose I'll see you in Hogsmeade, then, Potter."</p><p>Without another word, he swung around and strode down the hall, robes flicking as he went, Crabbe and Goyle lumbering after him.</p><p>And so Malfoy took his exit, leaving Harry suspicious and bemused, with his wand still halfway out his back pocket. </p><p>~X~</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which we discover malfoy's motives</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Draco's POV</p><p>"Well?" Pansy's voice came from the deep green armchair next to the fire. Draco turned and saw her, her eyes glinting in the firelight, head propped up on her arm, eyebrows wiggling. She smirked. "Did you find out?" Draco flopped into the squishy armchair opposite Pansy and sighed. </p><p>"I did."</p><p>Pansy shot up in excitement. "Well? Is he?"</p><p>"He is."</p><p>Pansy squealed happily. "Draco, darling, that's wonderful news!"</p><p>Draco allowed himself a smile, then said, "Well, I'm not sure how wonderful it is. Even if he can go, how on Earth would I ask him? 'Hey Potter, it's just me, the bloke you've hated for four years. I was wondering if you'd like to come to Hogsmeade with me?' Like that would work." Draco scoffed.</p><p>Pansy considered this, then said, "You know, I don't think he really hates you. He seems to almost enjoy bickering with you. Like an old married couple." </p><p>Draco ignored that last bit. "No, he just likes getting a rise out of me."</p><p>Pansy snorted. "Like you don't like getting a rise out of him? Draco, darling, look at me." She leaned forward and grasped his face, squishing his cheeks until he was looking her in the eye. "I'm telling you, he will say yes. And if he doesn't, you ask again another time. Alright?"</p><p>Draco grumbled assent. </p><p>"Besides, I know how you can ask him. Just act as if you have no other options. You could say that Blaise and I are out on a date, and that we're insufferable to be around, and you could say Crabbe and Goyle have detention or something of the sort."</p><p>Draco considered this carefully. "That might work. I mean, the first part is entirely true- ow! Don't hit, Pansy! No hitting, my father will hear about it! Ow. Yes, so that's true, and I'm sure I could actually get Crabbe and Goyle a detention. I could frame them for some sort of transgression. It would be quite easy."</p><p>"That's the spirit! Come here, darling." Pansy smiled and spread her arms, beckoning him to her perch in the armchair. Huffing, Draco slid from his chair and took a seat on the floor, leaning his back on her knees and letting her stroke his hair, his head in her lap. Though many people thought Draco and Pansy were involved with each other, Pansy was one of the few real friends Draco had, and she knew that he was absolutely gay, gay beyond doubt. Besides, Pansy was dating Blaise Zabini, another of Draco's close friends. Though Draco was certain he had seen Pansy making eyes at a certain bushy-haired, buck-toothed Gryffindor . . .</p><p>Draco snorted. Pansy stopped stroking his hair at once. </p><p>"What's so funny, darling?"</p><p>Draco shook silently, attempting to subdue another completely inappropriate snort- Malfoys did not snort. "Just, P-Pansexual Pansy, I-"</p><p>Pansy groaned and shoved Draco from her lap, inciting a muffled protest as he fell to the floor in a heap. </p><p>"That again? It's not even funny! It's not a good pun at all!"</p><p>"I- I know! It's terrible! That's why it's brilliant!" Draco composed himself, his lips still twitching.</p><p>Pansy sighed and helped Draco back up, placing his head back on her knee. She laughed and brushed stray strands of blonde hair from his forehead.</p><p>"You make no sense, you know that, darling? If only Potter could see this side of you . . . Carefree, innocent-" </p><p>"I am not innocent!" </p><p>"Shh, don't interrupt me, darling. You're adorable. I'm sure that if Potter knew you, as opposed to just one side of you- your much more sarcastic, grouchy, and, admittedly, cooler side-" </p><p>"Hey!" </p><p>"Kidding, darling. Anyway, if you let him know you, I'm sure he will fall for you. Eventually. Somehow."</p><p>Grudgingly, Draco looked up at Pansy's face, the orangey-firelight almost making it glow. </p><p>"Thanks, Pansy."</p><p>"Anytime, darling."</p><p>~X~</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which harry is quite startled</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry's POV</p><p>"Hey! Potter!"</p><p>Not again, Harry thought. He paused in walking across the grounds with Ron and Hermione to Care of Magical Creatures and turned to face Malfoy.</p><p>"What is it now, Malfoy?" he sighed.</p><p>"Well, Potter, I was just wondering if I could speak to you. Without the Mudb- without . . . Granger and Weasley." Harry looked at Malfoy curiously. It had not escaped his notice that Malfoy stopped himself from saying Mudblood. But why?</p><p>"Fine. Ron, Hermione, you can go on without me." Harry nodded in the direction of Hagrid's hut.</p><p>"You sure, mate?" Ron cast a suspicious glance at Malfoy, who was standing by himself on the path, tapping his foot, arms crossed impatiently.</p><p>"Yeah, I'm fine. Go on." </p><p>Hermione took Ron's arm and pulled him toward the hut, as he seemed reluctant to leave Harry and Malfoy alone together. </p><p>"Potter." Malfoy said.</p><p>"Malfoy." Harry responded. Malfoy glanced up at the sky for a moment, a brief gesture of irritation. </p><p>"I was wondering, Potter, if- well." He stopped, then tried again. "As you will be going to Hogsmeade this year, I was wondering if I could- this is ridiculous. I wanted to know if I could accompany you to Hogsmeade." </p><p>Harry stared at Malfoy, aghast. Whatever he'd been expecting, that was not it. He looked at the handsome, blond Slytherin as if he'd hit his head too hard. Despite himself, he felt a small leap in his stomach. "Are you asking me to go to Hogsmeade with you? " he asked curiously.</p><p>"Did I stutter?" Malfoy sneered, then began talking slightly quicker than was normal. "I mean, Potter, it's not that I want to go with you, per se, but, you see, Blaise and Pansy are off on another one of their dates, and Crabbe and Goyle got detention. They trashed Flitwick's classroom, and got caught by McGonagall." Here, Harry could have sworn Malfoy smiled, fleetingly, but then he curled his lip at Harry and said, "So, obviously, that is why I'm asking you."</p><p>Harry could not quite believe his ears- or Malfoy's motives. "How do I know you don't just want to get me alone so you can murder me?" he asked skeptically.</p><p>Malfoy laughed shortly, then replied, with a perfectly straight face, "Yes, Potter. I want to get you on your own so I can kill you and hide your body in the Shrieking Shack." His voice was dripping in sarcasm. </p><p>"Well, would you be accompanying me, Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked, watching Malfoy's expression carefully. Malfoy froze for a moment, light eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly. </p><p>Then he said, "I suppose you could tell the Weasel and Granger to go on without you."</p><p>Harry laughed incredulously. "Let me get this quite straight: you expect me to ditch my friends, my actual friends, to go to Hogsmeade with you?"</p><p>Malfoy winced, then replied, "Yes? Perhaps?"</p><p>It was true Harry rather enjoyed his bickering with Malfoy- though he left each exchange in an openly foul mood, he privately embraced the time he spent fighting against the good-looking Slytherin. He liked getting a rise out of him, and even though Malfoy was a git, if, for some reason, their arguments were put to an end, Harry was sure he would secretly miss them- and Malfoy- a lot. All this passed through his head in a moment, and he found himself replying. </p><p>"Yes. Fine, Malfoy. I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall, on the first trip, which is . . . November the twenty-third."</p><p>Malfoy's lips parted in surprise, then he smiled. </p><p>"Perfect." Malfoy's lip curled as he said, "Perhaps you'll enjoy the change in company. I assure you that I will be better conversation, at least, than a Mu- than Granger and Weasley."</p><p>He did it again, Harry thought. Outwardly, he loosed a skeptical laugh and replied, "We'll see about that. But I'm warning you, Malfoy. If you try anything funny, anything at all, I will hex you, and I'll hide your body in the Shack. Alright?"</p><p>Malfoy grinned, raising his eyebrows. </p><p>"Of course, Potter."</p><p>~X~</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which they sort of reach an understanding</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Draco's POV</p><p>Draco walked to the Entrance Hall as soon as he could, wearing a dark green knitted sweater and black jeans, the outfit Pansy had finally given the go-ahead. You must look your best, darling, she'd trilled. As Draco neared the great oak doors, approaching the already decent-sized gathering of students in line, he began to worry that Potter wouldn't show up. He would change his mind, he'd think it was a trick, he'd realize- "Malfoy!"</p><p>Draco startled, then turned. "Potter," he said cooly. "Didn't think you'd show."</p><p>"Of course I did. I said I would. Unlike some people, when I say I'll come, I mean it."</p><p>They walked together to wait in the line.</p><p>"What're you on about?"</p><p>"Duel, first year. You tricked us. Filch nearly caught us in the trophy room."</p><p>Malfoy laughed, incredulous. "You're still bothered by that?"</p><p>Potter scowled, then said, "I suppose I should thank you. That was why we found Fluffy the three-headed dog, which helped us find and save the Philosopher's Stone from Voldemort."</p><p>Draco flinched slightly when Potter said the Dark Lord's name, then calmly replied, "Anytime, Potter."</p><p>At this point, they had reached the front of the line. Filch checked their notes, muttering under his breath. He scanned Draco's with barely a glance, but glared suspiciously at Potter's for a long moment as though he suspected it of being a forgery.</p><p>"Hurry up, you filthy Squib!" Draco snapped. "Stop trying to find something wrong with Potter's note and let us through. You can see it's perfectly in order. My father will hear about this! This school is going to the dogs. You're holding us up for no reason. No, get your grimy hands off me, you daft-!"</p><p>Harry's POV</p><p>Malfoy was snarling at Filch, whose eyes bulged with fury. Filch held Malfoy's arms behind Malfoy's back as Malfoy struggled. Harry, to his own shock and consternation, had to suppress a laugh at Malfoy's peculiar defense of him.</p><p>"You get him, Malfoy," he snorted. Malfoy looked surprised, then grinned.</p><p>A natural, free grin, and Harry was startled to see that Malfoy's whole face changed when he laughed without malice; his features were softer, even more handsome, when they weren't curled in their trademark sneer. Harry thought he'd rather like to be the one who made Malfoy laugh like that, in a way that made him seem happier than he normally was.</p><p>Harry pushed aside the thought.</p><p>Malfoy was still a git, no matter how his face glowed in the sun, his blond hair catching the light like a halo, his grey eyes glittering, and a faint rosiness to his normally pale cheeks, caused by both his argument with Filch and now his wide smile.</p><p>"Come on, Malfoy." Harry scowled at Filch. "Let him go, please, Filch, damn it. We're fine, we'll leave quickly."</p><p>Filch narrowed his great big eyes at Malfoy, his jowls wiggling unpleasantly, and released the struggling boy from his grip. Malfoy shook himself, wiping his clothes off dramatically, all the while glaring daggers at Filch.</p><p>Without thinking, Harry grabbed Malfoy's arm, inciting mild protest from the pale blond, and pulled him on their way to Hogsmeade in the bright November sunlight, before they were both given detentions.</p><p>~X~</p><p>Oddly enough, Harry was still gripping Malfoy's arm as they walked through the gate and towards Hogsmeade. Stranger still was that neither of them mentioned it. Without needing to discuss it, they went the long way to Hogsmeade, avoiding other people. The farther they got from the castle, the more free Malfoy seemed, quicker to smile at small things like birds chasing each other, or small animals scampering up trees. Then he caught Harry looking at him and scowled. Maybe he hadn't changed too much after all, Harry thought.</p><p>Malfoy cleared his throat, then didn't say anything. Harry glanced at him, his eyebrows raised.</p><p>"Ahem . . . How are you, Potter?" Malfoy asked without looking in Harry's direction- he was staring intensely at a squirrel gnawing on a nut in a nearby tree.</p><p>"Er, fine, I suppose. Just . . . first task is tomorrow, y'know? I'm a bit on edge. And, of course, I'm still fighting with Ron, so . . ." Harry trailed off, glowering. "How about you, Malfoy?" This felt very odd.</p><p>"Oh, just walking along with my enemy . . . to Hogsmeade . . . to catch a Butterbeer, or to visit Zonko's. You know, the usual." Malfoy glanced at Harry.</p><p>Harry laughed without humour, then asked, "Why me? I mean, why did you ask me? You hate me."</p><p>Malfoy glanced around before answering, as though to make sure nobody was listening. No one was, unless you counted the squirrel. "To be honest, Potter, I don't exactly . . . abhor you. I'd say that I . . . mildly dislike you, as you're an attention-seeking prat. But-"</p><p>"I am not! Malfoy, I don't want any attention at all!"</p><p>Malfoy choked. Harry felt a blaze of anger- what had he ever done to make people believe he wanted the attention?</p><p>When he asked Malfoy, Malfoy looked at him disbelievingly and said, "Potter, who wouldn't enjoy the attention? Teacher's pet, can't go anywhere without making the front page; 'Harry Potter walked into a bookshop today!' 'Harry Potter went to the toilets!' It's ridiculous."</p><p>"Malfoy, I didn't ask for that. The only reason I'm famous is that Voldemort killed my parents! Who'd want-"</p><p>"Don't say his name, Potter."</p><p>"I can and I will. The only reason I'm alive is because of my mother. Not because I'm special. She sacrificed her life for me, that's why Voldemo-"</p><p>"Don't say his name!" Malfoy sounded slightly panicked, like he expected Voldemort to swoop out of the sky that instant. He jerked his arm out of Harry's grasp.</p><p>"Fine, if it makes you shut up. I thought he was your daddy's best mate, though? You have his spirit over for tea on Sundays?"</p><p>Malfoy ignored the jibe, so Harry continued speaking.</p><p>"All I'm saying is, I'm famous for things other people did. I'm not special at all."</p><p>Malfoy gave him the side-eye. "What about first year? You fought the Dark Lord, and Quirrell."</p><p>"Luck. My mother's sacrifice made him unable to touch me. I wouldn't have even gotten into the room anyway without Hermione's cleverness, and Ron's bravery and intelligence."</p><p>Malfoy scoffed. Harry glared at him.</p><p>"Yes, intelligence. Ron beat Professor McGonagall's chess game at eleven years old. I'd call that intelligent. He sacrificed himself, too. Could have died. I consider that bravery. Any other comments, Malfoy?"</p><p>Malfoy shook his head curtly.</p><p>"Second year, then, Potter. What about that?"</p><p>"More luck. If Fawkes hadn't come and gouged out the Basilisk's eyes and given me the sword, I never would have beaten Riddle."</p><p>"Well, you got into the Chamber. And you killed the Basilisk. That's not exactly nothing."</p><p>"I only got there because Hermione figured out what was in the Chamber, and how the Basilisk was moving around. We would have been lost without her. Besides, killing a blind Basilisk isn't that impressive, and-"</p><p>"You were twelve!"</p><p>"-and I got poisoned by one of its fangs. After all that, I still would've died if it hadn't been for Fawkes healing me. Why're you defending me against myself, anyway? I thought I was an attention-seeking prat."</p><p>Malfoy froze. "I- I'm just saying, I mean, you've done impressive things, it's just . . . annoying."</p><p>"Alright . . ."</p><p>"You oughtn't get a big head now." </p><p>"No chance of that, Malfoy."</p><p>"I know how my praise affects people. That's why I don't give it out often."</p><p>"Sure."</p><p>They walked in silence for a while, and it was when they reached Hogsmeade that Malfoy broke the silence.</p><p>"Potter, do you remember when we met?"</p><p>"Yeah, the train- no, wait, we met before that, didn't we?"</p><p>Malfoy nodded. "Madam Malkin's shop."</p><p>"Yeah. I remember that. You were a self-satisfied, pointy little git. Bragging about your broom and your blood status. I had no clue what you were on about, but I despised you right away."</p><p>Malfoy looked surprised, though Harry had no idea why he would be.</p><p>"You despised me from that?"</p><p>"Yeah, you reminded me of my cousin, Dudley. Spoiled rotten, except you were more arrogant. And perhaps slightly less stupid." And far better looking, Harry added mentally.</p><p>"I am offended."</p><p>"Go ahead. Be offended."</p><p>"I truly am. I was just trying to- never mind."</p><p>"What? What were you trying to do?" Harry stared at Malfoy.</p><p>Malfoy scowled. "Never mind. It doesn't concern you."</p><p>Harry sighed in exasperation. "Yes, it does, Malfoy. Tell me."</p><p>Malfoy groaned. "Fine. I . . . I was trying to impress you."</p><p>Harry wrinkled his nose in confusion. "Impress me?"</p><p>"Yes Potter," Malfoy snapped. "I was trying to impress you, trying to reach out. Clearly I went about it the wrong way."</p><p>Harry was dumbfounded. He'd been trying to impress him? It made sense . . . a little. But, Malfoy hadn't even known he was Harry Potter, back then. That was . . . interesting.</p><p>"Well, perhaps your people skills just needed some work- they still sort of do, though."</p><p>Malfoy glared at Harry, then sighed. "I know," he muttered quietly. He looked dejected, like there was even more to that soft 'I know' than Harry understood. Harry was struck by an urge to give him a sort of sideways, one-armed hug. But that was ridiculous- this was Malfoy. He was rude and arrogant to Harry and his friends for no reason other than social status. But still . . .</p><p>"If I'd known you wanted to, er, be friends, maybe I wouldn't have . . . judged you quite so harshly. It was because I met you that I told the Hat not to stick me in Slytherin."</p><p>Malfoy looked at him oddly.</p><p>"Slytherin? You?"</p><p>"Yeah . . . the Hat said I'd do well there, but Hagrid and Ron had told me about Slytherin's reputation, and I'd seen you as proof, so . . . Gryffindor was next best in its opinion."</p><p>Malfoy seemed to digest this information. He shook his head as if trying to shuffle what he had just heard into some sort of logic.</p><p>"But, Malfoy." Harry continued, "Perhaps I would have judged you less harshly then, if I'd known, but that doesn't mean I really like you now. Because of the way you act towards my friends, and to me. You don't exactly behave like you want to be best mates now, even if you'd wanted to be friends in the beginning. Why do we fight, Malfoy?"</p><p>Malfoy was silent, so Harry answered his own question.</p><p>"We fight because you are arrogant, and you act superiorly towards people. It's not really because of me. I just don't believe in that sort of thing. That's the only reason we're not friends now. And even if I'd chosen to be friends with you back then, on the train, I'm almost certain I wouldn't be at this point anyway, because I want to be friends with people who don't discriminate as you do. I'm friends with people who have the right values- like kindness, and acceptance, and equality."</p><p>Malfoy seemed to consider this, his brow furrowed.</p><p>"Then why are you here with me now, Potter?"</p><p>"I don't know." Harry shrugged. Inside, he did know. He'd always been . . . intrigued by the witty, handsome blond who, although he was a git, was smart and interesting to learn more about. "You asked me, I suppose. And, maybe, I almost want to . . . try, I guess? Perhaps?"</p><p>"Try?"</p><p>"Try . . . to get along. A little. I sort of want to try to be less, you know, constantly fighting, if you could try to be less judgemental, and less hateful."</p><p>Harry thought for a moment, then continued.</p><p>"Though, I don't really want to stop bickering with you. It sort of brings some . . . excitement to the place. Hogwarts doesn't really need more excitement, of course, but . . ."</p><p>Harry could have sworn he saw Malfoy smile, just a bit.</p><p>"Potter, I don't really want to . . . hate each other, I suppose. I concur, though- I rather enjoy bickering with you, too. And I suppose you didn't notice, but I'm trying."</p><p>"Trying?"</p><p>"To be less judgemental- or at least less . . . outspoken in my judgment."</p><p>Harry had noticed, of course he had. He noticed every little thing Malfoy did, though he didn't quite understand why.</p><p>"I noticed. You called Hermione 'Granger' as opposed to . . . that."</p><p>Malfoy looked over at Harry, a tiny smile on his lips. Then he clapped his hands suddenly and pointed at the Three Broomsticks, which they were nearing- they'd been walking for quite some time now, meandering around until they'd finally reached Hogsmeade.</p><p>"Alright, then, Potter. While this is riveting, I'm sure, I would quite like to go to the Three Broomsticks for a Butterbeer. Shall we?"</p><p>"I suppose we shall."</p><p>Malfoy smiled and let himself into the Three Broomsticks, letting the door close behind him. Harry shook his head and resignedly opened the door for himself, the comforting smell of Butterbeer and warm food washing over him as he entered the pub.</p><p>~X~</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which harry starts to get malfoy</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry's POV</p><p>It amazed him how easy it was, sitting next to Malfoy in the Three Broomsticks. They talked and laughed and joked so naturally, the same snarky sense of humour and so much to talk about. Harry had expected the day to pass in a series of barely-dodged hexes, cruel jokes, and offensive slurs, but it was just . . . simple. Simple, and almost . . . fun.</p><p>And! And Harry was struck by how different Malfoy was, right here, right now, away from Hogwarts. Harry had made a whole speech en route, even telling Malfoy that his values were the wrong ones, and Malfoy had just taken it. He'd agreed! Agreed! And while Harry wasn't prepared to forget everything that had happened over the years, far from it, he was still enjoying Malfoy's company a great deal more than he was going to admit.</p><p>They drank their Butterbeer, tucked into a booth at the far side of the pub. There was a momentary lull in conversation as they both took sips at the same time. Then Harry decided to break the short silence.</p><p>"Malfoy, you're acting differently here than you do at Hogwarts. Why are you . . .?" Harry trailed off.</p><p>"What do you mean, Potter?" Malfoy glanced up from his drink, normally pale face flushed from laughter- Harry had told the story of when Hagrid had given Dudley a pig's tail. He hadn't explained it all, just that Hagrid had visited Harry to give him his Hogwarts letter, and had gotten angry at Harry's cousin. Malfoy hadn't asked why Hagrid had needed to personally deliver the letter, and Harry hadn't volunteered the information.</p><p>"This has been . . . fun. You're not a git like you usually are. You're behaving like a normal person for once."</p><p>Malfoy rolled his eyes and sneered, "I'm flattered, truly."</p><p>"You know what I mean, Malfoy."</p><p>Malfoy sighed, setting down his glass. "You know, Pansy often says I have many different sides to me. I suppose I'm just different here than I am at Hogwarts."</p><p>"Okay . . . well, I think I rather prefer the civilized, friendly-ish Malfoy over the arrogant, rude one any day. Why do you even act like that in the first place if it comes so naturally to be like this?"</p><p>Malfoy stared at him blankly. "Obviously, Potter, I have an image, a reputation to uphold. I have expectations I must live up to."</p><p>Now it was Harry's turn to stare blankly. "An image of . . . being a prat?"</p><p>"No, I'm just . . . Don't you ever have to change yourself to fit what people want or expect you to be?"</p><p>"No. No, I just do what feels natural. I follow my instinct. Why wouldn't you?"</p><p>"Because!" Malfoy sounded frustrated. "I'm expected to have certain opinions, certain beliefs!"</p><p>Harry set his drink down as well. "You mean, the belief in blood status? Blood purity?"</p><p>"Yes, Potter. I am the Malfoy heir, and therefore I'm expected to support the natural hierarchy. I'm meant to follow the logic which states that Muggles are beneath wizards, and that Mudbl- Muggleborns are beneath Halfbloods, who are in turn beneath Purebloods. It's just . . . the way things are."</p><p>"That's . . . but, do you believe that?" Harry asked. He needed to know. He needed to, because if Malfoy didn't truly believe that, then . . .</p><p>"I . . . don't know, Potter."</p><p>Harry crinkled his nose. "How can you not know? Either you think it's true, or you don't!"</p><p>Malfoy heaved a great sigh. "It's not that simple. I . . . I've been raised like this for my whole life. Fourteen years of being completely immersed in these opinions, Potter! On one hand, I see Granger, who I know is passing me in classes not because all the teachers love her, but because she is genuinely . . . brilliantly intelligent." Malfoy scowled. "But, obviously, my father never hears about that. I just tell him that she's a teacher's pet, otherwise . . ." He trailed off delicately.</p><p>Harry watched Malfoy's face, seeing him a new light.</p><p>"And the Weasleys . . . I know they're great at Quidditch, any idiot could see that those twins can swing a bat like it's their job- it even could be, someday. But . . . I can't say that, because they are poor, and they are blood traitors, and my father doesn't like them."</p><p>Malfoy sighed again. "I don't really know what to think. I see you, and you're famous, whatever, and I sort of wanted to get to know you even before I knew you were the 'Perfect Potter'. But then you turn down my friendship, and decide to instead be friends with the people I've been raised to hate. So I think, well, then my father wouldn't want me to associate with you, correct? But then my father says, 'It would not do well to appear less than fond of Mr. Potter, Draco,' and yet . . . here you are, and here I am. It's a lot of mixed messages, you know? So no, I don't know what I believe in anymore."</p><p>"I get it," Harry said thoughtfully.</p><p>Maybe Malfoy wasn't quite as bad as he'd always thought.</p><p>~X~</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which pansy likes girls and the shack is not haunted</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Draco's POV</p><p>After leaving the Three Broomsticks, Draco saw a sight even stranger than Potter insisting on paying for their drinks: Pansy and Blaise, who should have been off on a date, traipsing along in the company of Granger and Weasley. Weasley and Blaise were lagging behind the girls, Blaise speaking smoothly, his face cool as ever, while Weasley looked surly, casting frequent glances at Granger and Pansy, who were up ahead, giggling together. As Draco watched, Granger buckled over laughing, and Pansy, under the guise of propping her up, sneakily and expertly slipped her arm around Granger's waist. Granger looked flustered, yet pleased. Pansy just looked smug.</p><p>Draco couldn't keep a triumphant grin off his face, watching Pansy and the girl she secretly, yet somewhat obviously, took a fancy to walking down the street together. </p><p>"Er, is Pansy . . . interested in anyone?"</p><p>Draco glanced at Potter, who had been watching the exchange with interest. </p><p>"I mean, she and Blaise are dating, but . . ." Draco trailed off, watching Pansy and Granger, while Blaise snuck a glance at Weasley, eyebrow raised. Weasley scowled, ears pink.</p><p>Potter nodded. "I mean, I'm asking for a friend. So . . ." Draco shot him a look. Did Potter fancy Pansy? "Does she . . . like girls?" Potter continued, and Draco sighed internally. </p><p>"Yes. Pansy is . . ." He wouldn't laugh at that pun. Not in front of Potter. He would not humiliate himself in such a way. "Pansexual," he finished, miraculously keeping a straight face.</p><p>Potter stared at him long enough for him to be unnerved. Then Potter cracked a grin and started snickering. "P-Pansexual Pansy, I- Pfft," he chortled.</p><p>Draco stared at him in amazement. "That's what I always say!"</p><p>Draco began to laugh as well. As he laughed, he realized that Potter must be alright with different sexualities. He didn't seem to have any problem with it. So, maybe, he would be alright with Draco as well. And while he could simply be accepting, there was a chance he may be interested in blokes- one should never assume a person was straight by default. Draco didn't know.</p><p>"In all seriousness, Potter, I was wondering . . . do you know if Granger fancies girls?"</p><p>Potter considered, watching his friend giggling with Pansy. "I think she does. Er,-"</p><p>"Let's cut to the chase, Potter," Draco interrupted impatiently- he'd seen enough to know that asking was safe. "Is Granger interested in Pansy?"</p><p>Potter seemed to ponder this. "You know, I think she might be. Don't you dare tell anyone I said that, though, Malfoy. Or I'll hex you into tomorrow," he threatened.</p><p>Draco scoffed. "You don't have the skill- or the need. I think Pansy fancies Granger. Alright?"</p><p>Potter looked annoyed at the jibe, but nodded. "Do you want to join them?" he asked. "Looks like they're on their way to Zonko's."</p><p>"Well, Ron and I are-"</p><p>The choice was snatched from them by Pansy- she saw them standing by the edge of the street and raced over, dragging Granger along with her. </p><p>"Draco, darling!" Pansy trilled. "Look who I found loitering around Tomes and Scrolls!" Granger smiled, nodding at Draco and beaming at Potter. "You simply must accompany us, darlings," Pansy addressed Draco and Potter. "We're en route to the joke shop!"</p><p>Without further ado, she took Draco's wrist in her right hand, her left being occupied around Granger's waist, and pulled Draco off toward Blaise and Weasley, who were waiting by Zonko's.</p><p>Draco cast a helpless look at Potter as Pansy dragged him away. Potter laughed at his dilemma and followed.</p><p>~X~</p><p>"Potter, I think we've spent quite sufficient time in here, don't you agree?" Draco muttered, glancing around to see if Pansy was listening. He was mildly worried that she wouldn't let him leave Zonko's, with her insisting on bonding  together, and Granger agreeing that Potter and Weasley needed to get past their "ridiculous spat".</p><p>Potter put down the box he was holding, looking around the shop. "I think you might be right. Where do you want to go?"</p><p>"You're asking me?" </p><p>"No, I'm asking the box over there."</p><p>Draco ignored this. "I suppose we could pop by the Shack, maybe browse the shops along the street," Draco pondered. He noticed a strange look on Potter's face and trailed off.</p><p>"How about the Shack?" Potter asked.</p><p>Draco stared at him. "Of all things, you want to tour the Shrieking Shack?"</p><p>Potter scowled. "If that's quite alright with you, of course. You're the one who suggested it, Malfoy."</p><p>Draco sneered, "I was just surprised that the famous Potter would want to look at another hovel- thought you'd have seen enough of them during the breaks."</p><p>Potter's eyes widened, then he glared at Draco. "Shut up, Malfoy. Why'd'you have to be such a foul git?"</p><p>Why, indeed?</p><p>"Let's just go. The Shack, then," Draco muttered, turning to leave. He glanced back to see where he'd left their friends, and saw Blaise and Weasley having an intense and animated discussion, Weasley scowling and making several rude gestures, Blaise gesticulating wildly in true Italian fashion. Pansy and Granger were off by the potions' shelves, Pansy leaning on a shelf, whispering in a flustered and blushing Granger's ear. </p><p>Potter seemed to take this all in as well, then said, "Fine. Let's go."</p><p>~X~</p><p>As they walked, Potter became more and more quiet, seemingly mute by the time they reached their destination. Draco gave up on trying to initiate some conversation, settling for observing Potter in what he hoped was an inconspicuous way. </p><p>What did he know about Potter? He knew that he lived with Muggles, stayed at Hogwarts for most breaks, was brilliant at Quidditch, and loved treacle tart. He knew he was terrible at Potions, great at Defence Against the Dark Arts, and hated Divination. He knew all these common facts, all these surface things. But did he really know Potter? He wanted to believe that he did, but looking at the boy beside him, black hair blowing in his face, bright green eyes lost in thought, he thought that Potter was as big a mystery as anything.</p><p>They stopped walking and considered the Shrieking Shack. Draco watched Potter, who seemed to be on another planet, staring at the dilapidated building. The sun shone through clouds, bright rays hitting the Shack, lighting up the rotting planks of wood and glinting off panes of broken glass, barred by mouldy, crisscrossed wooden planks.</p><p>"What are you thinking of, Potter?" Draco asked. Potter shook his head as if clearing it, then fixed his gaze on Draco. Draco was unsettled by the intensity of those green eyes. Then Potter sighed. "Just . . . memories. Family things. You know, er, it's hard to explain."</p><p>Draco looked at him oddly. "You think of family when you look at this Shack?" Draco saw an opening for a million cruel jokes, but chose not to comment. Instead, he asked, "Why?"</p><p>Potter shook his head. "Not now, Malfoy. Maybe next time. It's a long story."</p><p>Draco fixed on one thing from that phrase and felt a need to inquire. "Next time, Potter? Will there be a next time?" Maybe next time, if there was to be a next time, he'd learn some answers to the many questions he had about Potter.</p><p>"Depends, I suppose. D'you want to accompany me to Hogsmeade next time?"</p><p>Draco feigned that he was considering this. Of course, the answer was obvious to him, but he didn't want it to seem that way to Potter. Finally, he said, "Sure, Potter. Next Hogsmeade trip, then, you'll tell me what the big fuss is about the dirty old Shrieking Shack."</p><p>Potter grinned, then sent an almost wistful look at the building. It was as if he was looking at something that wasn't there, grasping at an idea or feeling when he looked at the Shack. </p><p>Or maybe memories . . . </p><p>A sudden gust of wind whipped around them, rattling the boards and the windows of the Shack, producing a low, keening wail. Draco shivered in the sudden chill. "You know, there are rumours that the Shack is haunted," Draco said nonchalantly, attempting to keep the superstition out of his voice. He'd always been a little nervous around unknown things, like the Shack, or the Forbidden Forest. </p><p>Strangely, Potter laughed. "It's not haunted."</p><p>Draco eyed him, then the Shack. "How d'you know?"</p><p>"What? Scared, Malfoy?"</p><p>Scared! Him! As if! Although, he wondered how Potter knew with such confidence that the Shack was not haunted. Perhaps he'd ask. Next time. Until then . . .</p><p>"You wish, Potter."</p><p>~X~</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which harry basically reveals his life story and malfoy barters for a snitch</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry's POV</p><p>Harry was bemused.</p><p>For reasons he knew not, he found himself counting the days until the next Hogsmeade trip. He was merely going through the motions of classes, homework, and conversations with all but Ron- who he was now on good terms with once more- and Hermione. He could hardly wait for the moment he would see Malfoy again. Of course, he had seen the enigmatic Slytherin several times in their shared classes, or in the corridors. He sought Malfoy out between classes just to get a rise out of him. They bickered and insulted each other as usual, except Harry thought he saw a twinkle in Malfoy's eye even as he smirked, tossing out rude comments like rice at a wedding. </p><p>Try as he might, Harry just couldn't hate Malfoy, even if the other boy directed derogatory comments at Harry and his friends all the time. It was ridiculous, but he couldn't. Not after meeting the friendly, funny model of Malfoy he had enjoyed a day in Hogsmeade with.</p><p>And it seemed Harry wasn't the only one enjoying the company of a Slytherin. Hermione had happily informed him that she'd be meeting up with Pansy Parkinson at Madam Puddifoot's next Hogsmeade trip. Likewise, Ron had grudgingly acknowledged that he'd be accompanying Blaise Zabini on a mix of errands and more fun things- they planned on picking up some potions ingredients from Dogweed and Deathcap, purchasing Blaise some dress robes from Gladrags, and then on visiting Honeydukes together.</p><p>Harry was happy for Hermione, but a little concerned that his best friend would get hurt- not because Pansy was a Slytherin, but because she was already with Blaise. He pushed his stray thoughts aside as he walked up to the Entrance Hall- the day had finally come.</p><p>The sun was shining, and Filch was glowering by the short line of students, checking their notes and then shoving them out the door. Harry was wearing his uniform black cloak with the silver clasps over a thick, woolly Weasley jumper and dark denim trousers. He fiddled with the little pasties in his pocket- cream cheese, smoked salmon, and dill, and some kippers in a napkin. He also, in his other pocket, had some jelly tarts. As he waited for Malfoy, he reflected on what he actually knew about the other boy. He knew the Malfoy's were rich, Mr. Malfoy had been a Death Eater, they used house-elves, and were all Slytherins. The list was rather short. He hoped to learn more about Malfoy- he was quite interested in him, oddly enough. He'd enjoyed spending time with Malfoy. He'd never thought that he would think that, but it was true. As he reflected, he realized something. Malfoy craved attention, yes. But he craved the attention of people laughing at his jokes, or people being concerned for him. In short, he craved the feeling of being liked and wanted. Shaking his head at this revelation- Malfoy was human, like anyone else- Harry noticed Malfoy entering the Entrance Hall.</p><p>Malfoy made his way towards him, giving a curt little wave and a smirk.</p><p>"Potter. A pleasure to see you," he sneered.</p><p>"Hullo, Malfoy. And how've you been lately?" </p><p>Malfoy grimaced. "Awful. Goyle, the idiot, blew up his potion, and some of it got in mine and ruined it. But you were there, Potter, remember?"</p><p>Harry did remember that- he'd laughed at Malfoy's face when Goyle's cement-like sludge plopped right into his perfectly made potion. Malfoy had looked like an owl, his eyes had widened so much, and then he'd turned on Goyle and started telling him off so ferociously that Snape docked twenty points off both of them and sent Malfoy into the hall.</p><p>"Ah. I remember that. So, other than that, everything's well?"</p><p>Malfoy nodded. "I suppose. And how are you, Potter?"</p><p>"Fine, just a little worried about the Tournament is all."</p><p>"Of course. Naturally. You'll do fine, though."</p><p>Harry couldn't believe his ears. "Are you, Malfoy, telling me, Harry, that I'll do fine?"</p><p>Malfoy looked at him oddly. "Yes?"</p><p>"Who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?"</p><p>Malfoy sighed long-sufferingly. "Potter, you've faced off the Dark Lord. I'm sure that a couple of challenges will be nothing for you. Oh, look, we've reached the Squib. Note, Potter."</p><p>Harry handed his note over to Filch, who eyed it suspiciously, jowls aquiver, but let him through this time. Malfoy was allowed to pass with a ferocious glare.</p><p>"I think he hates us both, now," Harry muttered.</p><p>"He hates everyone," Malfoy said dismissively. "Don't flatter yourself into a sense of false importance, Potter."</p><p>Harry snorted. "No chance of that, Malfoy." As they walked, they made an unspoken agreement to go the long way to Hogsmeade again, through the gate and then wandering here and there. The day was crisp and cold, pristine white snow lining the streets. The whole place had an air of Christmas- it was the last weekend before term's end. Harry pulled out the food he had stored in his pockets. Malfoy eyed it suspiciously. </p><p>"These have been in your pockets since breakfast, Potter?"</p><p>"No. I nicked it all from the kitchens before I left to go to the Entrance Hall."</p><p>Malfoy looked up in interest while taking one of the salmon pasties. "The kitchens? How do you get in there?"</p><p>"You go through a door in the entrance hall and take the stairs down. There's a corridor with a painting of a bowl of fruit. You tickle the pear, and it giggles and lets you in."</p><p>Malfoy looked perplexed. "How the hell did you figure that one?"</p><p>"That's for me to know, and you to find out," Harry said mysteriously. Malfoy delicately ate his pasty, somehow not allowing a single crumb to fall on him. </p><p>"Well, Potter, how about you tell me about yourself, then?"</p><p>Harry thought for a moment. "What could you possibly want to know? Everyone knows all about me already."</p><p>Malfoy glanced at him while taking another pasty. "That's not true, Potter. People think they know you. There's a difference. Do they know the things that make you you? Or do they know surface facts- Quidditch player, Gryffindor, famous?"</p><p>That was true. Many people didn't really know Harry. And people had all these false impressions about him- look at the rubbish that Rita Skeeter was putting out there. Harry picked up a kipper and chewed it before answering.</p><p>"Well, why don't you just . . . ask me some questions, then?"</p><p>"Alright. Er, what's your middle name?"</p><p>"James. After my dad."</p><p>"What's your birthday?"</p><p>"July thirty-first."</p><p>"Er, best and worst birthday presents?"</p><p> "Oh. That's . . . difficult."</p><p>Malfoy looked at him scornfully. "Come one, Potter. Hard to choose amongst all your expensive, lovely gifts?"</p><p>Harry felt a scalding stab of anger. "Actually, no, Malfoy. I don't get presents, at least not from the Dursleys. My eleventh birthday was my first real birthday. I got Hedwig from Hagrid, and a cake. I also was told I was a wizard, and that I could get away from the Dursleys and attend Hogwarts. Then, when I was twelve, Dobby-" </p><p>"Dobby?"</p><p> "-stopped all my messages, so I got nothing from Ron, Hermione, or anyone. That was the worst birthday, because I thought everyone had forgotten me. I'd never had any friends before, so it was awful. Then I was locked in my room because Dobby-"</p><p>"DOBBY!"</p><p>"-framed me for the pudding incident. My thirteenth birthday was good, I got a sneakoscope and a broomstick servicing kit, but I also got the Monster Book of Monsters. And this year, I got four cakes from Hermione, Hagrid, the Weasley and Si- someone else. Those are the only birthdays I've had in my life, for your information."</p><p>Harry was breathing heavily after this outburst. He looked at Malfoy, whose eyes were wide.</p><p>"First things first. My Dobby? My old house-elf Dobby?" Malfoy asked incredulously.</p><p>"Yeah." Of course Malfoy would center in on the only thing related to him. "He came to the Dursleys' on my birthday, ruined Uncle Vernon's business deal, not that I care, told me I couldn't go back to Hogwarts, smashed a pudding, and stopped all my mail from going through. He then stopped me from getting onto the platform, almost killed me with a Bludger, all in the name of protecting me from the 'dark things happening at Hogwarts'. I set him free at the end of the year. He works in the kitchens no-"</p><p>"You set him free!"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"Father never told us what happened there."</p><p>Harry snorted. "He wouldn't have."</p><p>"And . . ." Malfoy looked uncomfortable as he asked, "Why didn't these Duzzleys give you any presents?"</p><p>Harry cracked a grin. "Dursleys." Malfoy waved the name away dismissively. "And they just don't like me."</p><p>Malfoy looked at him oddly. "Why not?"</p><p>Why didn't the Dursleys like him? That was like asking Hermione why she was smart, or a Blast-Ended Skrewt why it was vicious. That was simply the way things were.</p><p>"Er, d'you want the simple answer, or the detailed one?"</p><p>"Detailed." </p><p>Of course he wanted the detailed answer. When would Malfoy ever make things easy for Harry?</p><p>"Well, when my parents were alive, the Dursleys hated them. They never associated with them. Aunt Petunia was my mum's sister, and she thought my mum was a freak for having magic, and hated my father. When Voldemort killed my parents, Dumbledore dropped me off at the Dursleys, since they were my only relatives, and Sirius was in Azkaban."</p><p>"Sirius Black?"</p><p>"I'll explain later. When we talk about the Shack, okay? Now, Dumbledore must've left a note or a letter or something explaining the situation. But the Dursleys hated me because I was a wizard. They never told me about my magic, thinking they could just . . . quash it out of me if they kept me locked up and underfe-"</p><p>"Locked up!"</p><p>"In a cupboard under the stairs."</p><p>"A cupboard!"</p><p>"Yes Malfoy, a cupboard," Harry said testily. "I'm sure you've seen one before? It's where one keeps things that should be kept out of sight, like winter coats in the summer, or brooms, or small, unwanted, magical children. May I continue?"</p><p>Malfoy nodded numbly.</p><p>"So I spent the first eleven years of my life in a cupboard, underfed and being bullied by Dudley, my cousin. Oh, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon love Ickle Diddy-dums. He's the light of their life. They coddle him so much, it's embarrassing. He's spoiled rotten, fat, and ugly. He looks like a walrus masquerading in a blond wig as a teenaged boy."</p><p>Malfoy looked aghast. "You said I reminded you of him!"</p><p>"Oh! Oh, no, only in personality."</p><p>"I feel so much better, I'm sure."</p><p>Harry snorted. "Anyway, that's about it."</p><p>"No, it most certainly is not, Potter."</p><p>Harry suppressed a groan. "And why is that, Malfoy?"</p><p>"Because I said so. I am confused on several fronts. First, if they didn't want to tell you about your magic, which, by the way, is a very bad idea and may have resulted in your developing an Obscurus-,"</p><p>"A what?"</p><p>"Magic that is unpredictable, and is triggered by emotions. It explodes out of you at inconvenient times, and most Obscurials don't live long."</p><p>"Ah. Glad that didn't happen, then."</p><p>"Naturally. Now, they didn't want to tell you, so how did you find out? I'm catching little things, like Hagrid, and something called a Hedwig, and I know that Hagrid brought you to Diagon Alley, as I saw you there, and I know he gave your cousin a tail. Care to explain the whole thing from the beginning, Potter?"</p><p>So Harry did. Beginning with Dudley's birthday, the zoo, and then going to Diagon Alley, ending with meeting the Weasleys at the platform and seeing Hermione for the first time. Malfoy remained silent throughout the whole story, excepting the barely-suppressed noises of outrage whenever the Dursleys insulted wizards- Muggles looking down at wizards? Surely what was the world coming to?- and a snicker which earned him a glare when Uncle Vernon described Albus Dumbledore as a crack-pot old fool.</p><p>By this time they were nearing Hogsmeade, and, being cold, they entered the nearest shop to warm up, which happened to be Spintwitches Sporting Goods. A little bell tinkled, and they were immediately accosted by flashing colours of various Quidditch teams. Harry saw the Chudley Cannons, Holyhead Harpies, Appleby Arrows, and many more teams waving merrily and zooming around on their respective posters. Mannequins were showing off Quidditch robes, arm guards, and other things all around the room. Harry could have sworn he saw one mannequin stifle a yawn, and heard another one cough.</p><p>A fire crackled in the corner of the shop, and Malfoy tugged Harry over to it and sat down on a little stone bench. Harry sat across from him. He noticed the owner of the shop shooting them sharp glances, as if they would steal something. Ignoring her, Harry watched in fascination as Malfoy carefully unfurled his green and silver scarf, then fastidiously wrapped it around his narrow, pale hands like mittens. Malfoy rubbed his hands together, warming them by the fire- he seemed to have forgotten his black suede gloves- and smiled until he noticed Harry watching. His face flushed. 'What is it, Potter?"</p><p>"N-nothing," Harry stammered in surprise, then cursed himself for stuttering. He'd just been watching Malfoy! What was the big fuss?</p><p>"Now tell me about the Shrieking Shack, Potter," Malfoy ordered.</p><p>"Er . . . Alright." Harry cleared his throat, then began.</p><p>Malfoy listened raptly, eyes wide, right up until the very end, when Sirius flew away on Buckbeak. Harry also mentioned that he still kept in touch with Sirius, and that the Dursleys were terrified of Harry's criminal-godfather who was on the run.</p><p>"So . . . the Dark Lord will . . . rise again? Because of Weasley's rat?" Malfoy asked finally, his voice small.</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"So it's Weasley's fault!"</p><p>Harry stared at Malfoy angrily. "What? No!"</p><p>"If that were my rat, I would've known that he was an ugly little middle-aged man!" Malfoy exclaimed.</p><p>Harry shook his head. "Are we really going to get into this? No, you wouldn't have. Scabbers was in Ron's family for years. He had no reason to suspect anything."</p><p>"Fine, Potter. But, you helped that bloody chicken escape?"</p><p>"Chicke- Buckbeak?"</p><p>"Yes! That thing! It almost killed me!"</p><p>"No, he didn't. Don't be ridiculous."</p><p>"It did!" </p><p>"It was your own fault!"</p><p>Malfoy's face was flushed. "I didn't think it actually understood me, alright, Potter?"</p><p>Harry sighed. "Hagrid said they were proud, and intelligent. You should've known better. You did a good job getting him to bow and all, you just shouldn't have pushed it."</p><p>"Fine, Potter."</p><p>"Besides," Harry continued, "you weren't even badly hurt." Malfoy made an indignant noise. "You weren't, Malfoy. Madam Pomfrey fixed you up in a second. You just milked it to get out of all your work."</p><p>"I did not!"</p><p>"Yes, you did. Admit it."</p><p>Malfoy shrugged. "Fine. I did."</p><p>"I knew it! I-"</p><p>"Are you boys going to buy anything, or just sit there jabbering?" A sharp voice interrupted Harry mid-sentence. He looked up and saw the portly shop-owner who'd been shooting them suspicious glances. She had an aquiline nose and ruddy cheeks, and was glowering down at them shrewdly.</p><p>"I- er."</p><p>"Well, you see-,"</p><p>"Ah. I recognize you two. Slytherin and Gryffindor seekers, hm?"</p><p>Harry and Malfoy looked at each other, eyebrows raised, then nodded in unison.</p><p>"I suppose you won't be playing much this year, 'cause of that blasted Tournament. Better keep ship-shape, then, eh? May I interest you boys in some Quidditch supplies?" she said briskly.</p><p>"I think we're fin-" Harry began, but Malfoy cut across him swiftly.</p><p>"How much is that practice Snitch, right there?"</p><p>"Oho, a good choice," she said appreciatively. "That there would be ten Galleons."</p><p>"Ten!" Malfoy spat. "That's absurd!"</p><p>"Well, my boy, what would you call a fair price?" The woman crossed her arms.</p><p>"Seven Galleons."</p><p>"Seven!" she exclaimed. "Nine and no less!"</p><p>"Seven and a Sickle."</p><p>"Eight and a Sickle," she countered.</p><p>Harry watched them rant and rage, feeling completely out of his depth. He took the Snitch right from Malfoy's hand and inspected it as they continued on, oblivious to him:</p><p>"Seven and seventeen Sickles!"</p><p>"Why, you little-!"</p><p>Harry snorted as Malfoy attempted to finagle his way to eight Galleons. Malfoy glared at him, snatching the Snitch back.</p><p>"Fine. Seven Galleons, and four-hundred-ninety-three Knuts."</p><p>The woman considered this rather impressive-sounding number carefully. Then her face paled, and then proceeded to flush, going from jaundice to red like a traffic light. "That- That's eight Galleons again!" she sputtered.</p><p>"I know that," Malfoy said smoothly.</p><p>"F-fine!" The woman looked as if she were struggling some painful, internal struggle, then she spat, "You can have it for eight Galleons, if you get out of my shop right after!"</p><p>Malfoy smirked, tossing her eight Galleons. She fumbled to catch them. Several fell on the floor, and when she stood from picking them all up she looked murderous. Harry gulped, grabbing Malfoy's hand- the one that wasn't holding the Snitch- and tugging him out the door.</p><p>~X~</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which they play quidditch and harry has an epiphany</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry's POV</p><p>A flurry of falling snow hit them as they left Spintwitches, wind whipping the flakes into their faces as soon as they opened the door. Malfoy was smug and tossing the practice Snitch from hand to hand, and Harry was angry at Malfoy's contemptuous treatment of the kind, if outspoken, shop-owner. Harry snatched the practice Snitch and examined it, again, to see what made it so different from a regular Snitch. Malfoy looked at him oddly. Harry felt annoyance swell in his stomach, and he said, "You really shouldn't have thrown them at her, Malfoy. It was rude and arrogant."</p><p>"She irritated me," Malfoy said off-handedly.</p><p>"How so?"</p><p>"Potter, do you have any idea what I could buy for ten Galleons? It's a ridiculous price. A practice Snitch isn't worth that. Hell, a real Snitch barely is." Malfoy sounded exasperated, and Harry just felt irritable.</p><p>"What is the difference between a practice Snitch and a regular one, Malfoy? I've been looking, and I can't see any visible difference."</p><p>Malfoy sighed and looked at Harry like he was quite an idiot. "That's because the difference isn't visible. Quite simply, the difference is that a regular Snitch has flesh memories, while a practice Snitch does not."</p><p>"What are flesh memories?" Harry asked in confusion.</p><p>Malfoy glanced at him blankly. "You're not serious, Potter. Alright, well, basically a Snitch remembers who touched it first. That's called flesh memories."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"Obviously so that if there's a foul, they have a guaranteed way of knowing who caught the Snitch," Malfoy said.</p><p>"Ah. Makes sense," Harry said. Then he furrowed his brow. "But Wood has us practice with the Snitch all the time. How can the Snitch for the game know who touched it first if we use it for practice?"</p><p>"You're clearly using a practice Snitch, Potter."</p><p>"Oh. But, they set a new Snitch loose every match? Isn't that expensive?"</p><p>"Six matches a year, Potter. I think Hogwarts can handle the expenses."</p><p>"Alright. Hey," Harry was struck by a sudden thought. "you know, that shop-owner was right. We won't be playing Quidditch all year, so we should keep in form. We've got ourselves a Snitch, why don't we play a practice match?"</p><p>Malfoy crinkled his nose, eyebrows furrowed. "Now? In the snow, at Hogsmeade, one-on-one?"</p><p>"Why not?" Harry grinned. "Scared I'll beat you? You ought to be used to it by now."</p><p>"As if, Potter. Let's go- the hill over here is nice and open, just on the edge of the town. We can summon our brooms there."</p><p>They trudged through the snow towards the wide hill, summoning their respective broomsticks. Malfoy shot a look of barely-disguised envy at Harry's Firebolt, which Harry pretended not to see. They set the Snitch loose, and after waiting twenty seconds, shot up into the air after it. </p><p>The wind whipped wildly, and Harry reached a height of about sixty feet quickly, then examined the sky for the Snitch. Snow was falling, making it difficult to spot the little golden ball. He saw Malfoy coming up behind him, a blur of black, silver, and green, with his blond hair shining in the snow and sun. Malfoy's cheeks were pink in the fierce wind and crisp air, and Harry had to shake his head to force himself to inspect the sky for the Snitch instead of watching Malfoy.</p><p>Then Harry saw a glint of gold and shot forward. Malfoy startled, then followed. Harry rocketed towards the little ball, hand outstretched, and then- bam! Malfoy had slammed right into him, sending him spinning and nearly falling off his broom. It only took a moment, but the Snitch was gone, lost in the swirling snow. Glaring at Malfoy, Harry shook himself off and floated a bit higher, scanning the air for any sign of the Snitch.</p><p>He and Malfoy drifted around for a while, searching wildly, to no avail, until Malfoy suddenly hurtled straight at Harry. Harry, startled, jerked his broom away and caught sight of a golden flicker at the edge of his vision. </p><p>Malfoy had seen the Snitch.</p><p>Harry spun around, cursing, and saw that Malfoy was already several metres in front of him, speeding after the Snitch. Harry pushed his broom as fast as he could, catching up to Malfoy swiftly. They were right next to each other, and Harry shouldered Malfoy out of the way. Malfoy shoved him back, and it was then that the Snitch decided to switch directions. A little blur of gold, it shot straight down, right towards the ground. Nearly eighty feet up, Harry heard Malfoy swear as he shifted on his broom in unison with Harry, and then they both hurtled downwards. Harry was right behind Malfoy, in hot pursuit of the Snitch. He caught up to Malfoy and saw his pale face grow even whiter as they rocketed toward the ground- twenty feet, fourteen feet, nine feet. Harry noticed Malfoy's broom jerk, as if he were doing his best not to back out. Then Harry saw Malfoy's eyes steel, and Malfoy reached his hand out for the Snitch, close enough to touch Harry's own outstretched fingers. And then they both grabbed wildly at the Snitch, moments before crashing. Harry felt his fingers catch one of the frantically flapping wings, and saw Malfoy's slender fingers close on the little golden ball. In the seconds before they hurtled into the earth, Harry noticed that Malfoy's finger-nails, far from the perfectly manicured specimens which Harry somehow would have expected, were bitten to the quick, with little scabby scraps of skin around the edges. He was jarred, for whatever reason, by this surprisingly human and . . . vulnerable characteristic on the otherwise perfect Slytherin. All these thoughts passed through his mind in an instant, and then they slammed into the deep snow with a soft flump.</p><p>They both had their hands still locked around the Snitch, and Harry ducked as he saw a fist fly towards his face. He kicked his knee out, jabbing Malfoy in the stomach, and heard a satisfying oughf. Malfoy's fingers scrabbled for purchase on the cold surface of the little Snitch, and Harry locked his grip tighter on the wing. He could feel the Snitch beating wildly at his hand like a trapped hummingbird. Malfoy's elbow hit him in the stomach, and then a leg flew over him and flailed around, kicking his back. Harry scrambled at Malfoy, fighting for the Snitch, and soon they were just a messy tangle of limbs in the cold snow.</p><p>"Are- are you ever going to let go?" Harry huffed, out of breath. He caught a fist to the jaw and dove at Malfoy.</p><p>"N-no! A Malfoy never b-backs down!" Malfoy managed to gasp out. Harry privately thought that wasn't so true- he'd seen Mr. Malfoy back down to an angry house-elf and a runty, bloody, scraggly, and tired twelve-year-old with one sock. He chose not to comment.</p><p>"Guess we'll be here for a while, then," Harry sighed as he flopped back onto the snow.</p><p>"I'd suppose so," Malfoy agreed, taking a break as well.</p><p>For a while, they just lay there, thoroughly tuckered-out and breathing heavily, but both experiencing a wonderful sense of comfort and peace. They looked up into the clouds and the falling snow, fat, fluffy flakes landing on their noses, eyes, and in their hair. Harry saw Malfoy catch a snowflake on his tongue, and then look embarrassed. Harry became quite aware of Malfoy's fingers near his, and felt an overwhelming urge to drop the Snitch and take Malfoy's hand instead. Then he shoved aside this sudden madness. This was Malfoy! Malfoy, who he didn't hate but definitely didn't like, at least not in the way he suspected he might. </p><p>Harry wasn't an idiot.</p><p>He knew that he wasn't exactly straight. He also knew, however, that he was not gay. He'd definitely fancied girls- in fact, he thought Cho Chang was quite something, though whether he fancied her, he wasn't quite certain. But Harry was not straight. He'd definitely noticed other blokes in a way that was more than just friendly appreciation of a good-looking guy. As a matter of fact, he'd noticed Malfoy that way more than most, but he couldn't possibly- did he? Harry's mind was awhirl, swirling as fast as the flurries of snow in the sky. He glanced over at the rosy-cheeked, handsome, blond boy lying next to him in the snow. Malfoy looked peaceful, his face relaxed and not curled in a sneer. Harry thought it might be possible he did like Malfoy. Possibly in that way. </p><p>Harry was still contemplating when he heard a shout-"Potter!" He looked in the direction of the voice and felt something white, cold, and wet hit him in the face, knocking his glasses clean off. Harry saw the blurry figure of a girl walking toward him, and another one behind her, bushy hair whipping in the wind. The sound of Pansy Parkinson cackling madly reached him- for she was the criminal who'd thrown the snowball- and as the girls came closer they resolved themselves into the fuzzy silhouettes of Pansy and Hermione.</p><p>Harry patted the snow, searching for his glasses without relinquishing the Snitch. Then he felt Malfoy's hand leave the tiny golden ball, and felt his glasses being gently rested back on his nose. One arm of the glasses poked him in the ear, and Harry released the Golden Snitch and righted it. The blond blur in front of him revealed itself to be a smirking Draco Malfoy, who laughed at Harry's expression, brushing some snow out of the dark fringe of hair that concealed Harry's scar.</p><p>Harry felt a funny little lurch in his stomach, looking at the witty, handsome, funny, intelligent boy in front of him, and he realized that he was in a world of trouble.</p><p>He ignored the approaching girls, Pansy still snickering, Hermione looking sheepish. The Snitch laid forgotten in the snow.</p><p>He realized that he fancied Malfoy.</p><p>~X~</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which madam puddifoot knows and hermione and pansy are sneaky</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Draco's POV</p><p>That afternoon found Draco and Potter crammed into a small, squashed booth at Madam Puddifoot's, at the insistence of Pansy and Granger. Puddifoot's was steamy and frilly, revoltingly pink and covered from top to bottom in mistletoe, which Draco had side-stepped carefully. He'd caught Potter eyeing it with suspicion and alarm. Pansy and Granger, however, had stumbled into the shop, giggling, and had disappeared for a moment, returning a minute later to dump Draco and Potter in their booth and run off again.</p><p>Pansy and Granger had already been to Puddifoot's, first thing in the day, but said they loved so much they wanted to show Power and Draco. Draco wondered, perhaps a little churlishly, what exactly everyone seemed to see in this place- it was packed with people. Then he realized that all of the people were couples, and felt even more apprehensive than before.</p><p>Draco felt Potter shift uncomfortably beside him, and realized he was not the only one who was uneasy. Still, it irritated him slightly that Potter couldn't seem to be in close-quarters with Draco without being restless. It was because of this short-temperedness that he said rather waspishly, "What is it, Potter?"</p><p>Potter blinked, then replied, with a self-conscious glance around the steamy little tea-shop, "Well, er, it's just- Don't you get the feeling they have some sort of ulterior motives? I mean to say, they drag us here, and then they just vanish. I dunno, it seems odd."</p><p>Draco nodded as much as he could in the cramped space. Somewhere, a Christmas cracker went off, blowing confetti in his face. Draco struggled to pull his arm up and get the confetti away, but he was crammed between Potter and the wall, so he settled for shaking off his hair and hoping for the best. Potter laughed, then brushed off the confetti with the hand that was loose and in the aisle between tables. Draco's heart skipped a beat as Potter brushed the colourful pieces of paper out of his blond hair, Potter's green eyes crinkling as he stifled another snicker.</p><p>"Thanks. But yes, absolutely, Potter. They absolutely have ulterior motives." I'm sure Pansy's told Granger all about my little crush. "In fact, I'm terrified."</p><p>Potter raised his eyebrows sarcastically. "You? Frightened? I thought Malfoy's didn't get scared."</p><p>"We don't. Unless it's of Pansy's dastardly schemes. Then we are quite permitted to be alarmed."</p><p>As they spoke, casting glances around the shop from time to time, trying in vain to spot Granger and Pansy in the crush of people, a stout little woman with a shiny black bun squished beside their table and began speaking rapidly.</p><p>"Hullo, m'dears, my name's Madam Puddifoot, I'm here to take your order."</p><p>"Er-" Potter looked a little overwhelmed at her brisk manner, but he didn't have to search long for what to say, for Puddifoot cut straight across him and continued speaking.</p><p>"Very good, dear. Now, I'd like to say I am so very pleased to see so many of you coming to my shop. I just had the little Irish fellow and the tall, dark lad in here, and your friends, the one with the bushy hair and the one with the very short skirt. I'm simply so proud. You're so brave to be out in the open like this. I know there are so many horrible, judgemental people out there, and I want you to know that Madam Puddifoot's-" She jabbed her ample chest with a stubby thumb. "-is a safe place for all members of this community. Do you understand me, dears?"</p><p>Potter blinked. Draco felt a dawning sense of understanding and horror. She didn't think- not that he'd be complaining, in any case, but-</p><p>"Er, well, actually, I don't . . . quite . . . understand, no . . ." Potter trailed off.</p><p>Madam Puddifoot's eyes widened, then she flushed. "Oh, oh dearie me, it seems I've made a bit of a blunder- you mean to say you're not- oh, good gracious. Ah, my apologies, m'dears. What can I get you, then? So sorry," she muttered.</p><p>"Ah, two coffees, please, Madam. And it's quite alright, I understand that it's an easy mistake to make. No harm done," Draco said smoothly. "And I'd just like to say that I think it's wonderful to see someone so welcoming to all people. And the decorations are quite nice."</p><p>Madam Puddifoot straightened up at the praise, smiling fondly despite her embarassment.</p><p>"Thank you, dear. I'll be here with your drinks in a jiffy." She bustled off, muttering mutinously as she knocked into a table.</p><p>Draco turned to look at Potter, who hadn't moved from his wide-eyed position. "Are you quite alright, Potter?"</p><p>"Did she- she thought we were on a- a date!"</p><p>"Indeed."</p><p>Potter looked exceedingly uncomfortable, ripping a hand through his tangle of shiny black hair.</p><p>"And you, er, were so polite to her."</p><p>Draco rolled his eyes. "I can be nice when I want to, Potter."</p><p>"I know," Potter muttered. "But you were especially nice because she's so welcoming- I know you don't love the decorations, you're looking at them like they're going to bite you."</p><p>Ah. "Well, I'm just pleased that people are accepting towards the . . . LGBTQ+ community."</p><p>"Alright . . . Because you're normally so concerned about accepting people . . ." Draco bit back a snide retort- Potter had a right to be skeptical. Draco had to keep reminding himself not to get defensive- unfortunately, Potter would usually be correct in his opinions of Draco. Potter looked like he wanted to say something else. </p><p>Draco sighed. 'Whatever it is you're wondering, just ask."</p><p>Potter startled, then his ears turned pink. He pursed his lips. "I was, er, wondering if, say . . . Well, Pansy- Hermione- good grief. Are you-?"</p><p>He stopped talking and stared up at a patch of ceiling like it was the most interesting paint-job in the world.</p><p>"Am I what, Potter?"</p><p>"Are you . . ." Potter still was looking up at the ceiling. He breathed in and out deeply. "Y'know, gay? Or something of the sort, I mean, er-"</p><p>Draco panicked slightly. "Do I seem gay to you, Potter?" he sneered.</p><p>Potter's eyebrows flew up into his tangly hair-line. "No! I mean, er, no-?"</p><p>Draco grimaced. Now it seemed as if he thought gay was an insult. He stabbed the table with a fork- obviously he had no problem with gay or anything of the sort!</p><p>"Wrong answer, Potter," he muttered.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"I said," Draco repeated, twisting the fork into the wood of the table- he'd fix it for Puddifoot later. "Wrong answer."</p><p>Potter stared at him. "So, you are gay?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>Draco then shook his head. Potter looked puzzled.</p><p>"No?"</p><p>No? Yes, Draco, you fool! Honestly!</p><p>"Yes! Yes, I am, alright? Do you have an issue with that, Potter?"</p><p>Obviously he didn't. What was Draco even saying?</p><p>Potter opened his mouth to speak, but Draco held up a hand, taking care to turn his finger-nails away slightly so Potter wouldn't see the mess that they were. "Shut up. I know you don't have a problem."</p><p>"Alright. You're right. I don't."</p><p>Draco cast a sideways glance at Poter, and saw his eyebrows were furrowed. Potter's green eyes flashed, and he turned to face Draco.</p><p>"Do you, er, fancy anyone?"</p><p>"Merlin-no! Potter! And if- IF! I did, I would most certainly not tell you, because it really isn't any of your concern."</p><p>Draco turned, cheeks hot, face flushed, and stared fixedly out the window into the blurry, white landscape outside- blurry because of the steam covering the window. Draco wiped an area of steam off the cold glass with his sleeve so he could look outside, taking care that his clear little section was a perfect circle.</p><p>Snow flurried through the air, crystalline flakes whirling and swirling on the bitter wind. The sun shone bleakly through grey clouds. Potter asked if he fancied anyone. And of course the answer was yes. and of course it really was Potter's concern.</p><p>Yes, I fancy someone, you idiot. You.</p><p>Draco glanced over at Potter, who was tugging on his fringe of dark hair restlessly. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he coughed.</p><p>"You know, I'm bisexual. So I really don't care at all."</p><p>Draco nearly dropped the fork he'd previously been mutilating the table with. His neck cracked as he whirled around to stare at Potter owlishly. Potter was determinedly examining the ceiling for faults, and clearly would not be surfacing soon. He seemed not to realize the effect which his nonchalant declaration had had on Draco.</p><p>Draco realized he had not responded, and instead was gaping in the most unbecoming way. He shut his mouth with a snap, then nodded firmly, not quite trusting himself to speak yet.</p><p>"That's . . . Good for you, Potter. Do you fancy anyone, then?"</p><p>Potter stared at Draco incredulously, so Draco felt as if he were being scrutinized intensely. Of course Potter wouldn't tell him- Draco hadn't told Potter if he fancied anyone.</p><p>"Why should I tell you, Malfoy?"</p><p>"Because you want to?'</p><p>Potter snorted a derisive laugh. "I really don't."</p><p>"Why is that, Potter? If you didn't fancy anyone, you wouldn't be avoiding the question. Therefore, I gather you do fancy someone, and, for whatever reason, you don't want me to know whom. That could be for various reasons- one, because it, admittedly, is none of my business- as insulting as it is to me that you don't trust me, or feel sufficiently close to me to tell me all your secrets, or two- whoever you fancy is someone who would be embarrassing for me to know about. Or it could be a combination of the two- it is none of my business, and it's embarrassing."</p><p>Draco took a deep breath and waited expectantly. Potter's green eyes were wide, providing furth evidence that Draco's supposition was correct.</p><p>Then Potter coughed out a laugh. "Brilliant deduction, Holmes."</p><p>Draco tilted his head quizzically. "What is Holmes?"</p><p>"Ah. A fictional Muggle detective. He's brilliantly intelligent. The books about him are extremely famous, and there are several movie and TV adaptations of the books."</p><p>"Alright . . . What is TV? And movie?"</p><p>Potter sighed. Never mind, Malfoy. Nevertheless, you're right."</p><p>"Which one?"</p><p>"Both." Poter grinned irritatingly. 'And, because of your brilliant deduction, I can safely assume you're not telling me whether you fancy someone for the same reason. Correct?"</p><p>Damn it.</p><p>Draco opened his mouth to say something- what, exactly, he wasn't quite sure- just as Madam Puddifoot bustled over with their drinks, and, inexplicably, two extras.</p><p>"Er, we didn't order these," Potter said, pointing at the extra pair of mugs.</p><p>"Yes, well, your friends did. They harrassed me in the kitchens to make two more drinks, and to serve them to your table." She shrugged, clanking the mugs onto the table, then making her exit, squeezing between a cramped table and the approaching Pansy and Granger.</p><p>Granger looked flushed in the pink lighting and steamy conditions of the tea-shop, and Pansy looked like Pansy normally did. They squished into the booth across from Draco and Potter and grabbed their coffees, Pansy dumping several piles of sugar and a ton of milk into it before deeming the beverage acceptable. Granger poured a little milk, no cream, and no sugar into hers, and sipped it delicately as Pansy pretended to be dainty, her manicured, black-painted pinky finger sticking out from the side of the mug.</p><p>Potter glanced at Draco, then shrugged and took his own mug, nudging the other one toward Draco. Draco made up his coffee- a little sugar, a little milk, and a little cream- and listened to Pansy and Granger's light banter, with Potter putting in a word now and again. Draco sipped his hot, steaming beverage, the drink warming him up almost as much as the ridiculous Gryffindor squished up beside him.</p><p>The next hour passed in relative comfort and friendly discussion, and soon Draco's stomach hurt from laughter. He glanced at Potter, who was flushed and looked like he was close to having tears of mirth in his eyes from Pansy's lively (and extremely bawdy), anecdote.</p><p>Eventually, when they'd all quieted down, paid, fixed the damage done to the table, and felt quite prepared enough to brave the storm once more, they stood and began the arduous task of putting on their winter layers and pressing through the cramped shop without being caught under mistletoe. They had almost escaped the confines of the little shop, and then it happened.</p><p>Potter was just about to cross the threshold, Draco staying safely behind him, when Draco felt a sudden thump on his back- someone had shoved him! He stumbled forward, glancing begind him to see Pansy's devilish grin. As he turned his head, he saw it. The mistletoe, hanging right in the doorway. They had been so close to escaping the treacherous plant, and Pansy had to go and spoil everything!</p><p>But, Draco wasn't obligated to do anything about the mistletoe! Surely he could just . . . walk out!</p><p>But no. It was not meant to be. As Potter attempted to leave the shop, he was pushed back by an invisible wall. Draco shoved him aside and tried to exit as well, but to no avail. Finally, he turned to Pansy and sent her a murderous glare. She smirked. Granger had her face in her hands, but Draco could see her peeking through her fingers. Potter coughed quietly. </p><p>"Er, Malfoy, we're, er, holding up traffic." This was true. There were several people trying to leave the shop, but being shoved back by the enchanted mistletoe's field. </p><p>"'Urry up and snog, a'ready! I got ter get me ter the 'Og's 'Ead fast-like fer a meetin'!" one abrasive man with a ruddy red nose shouted. Draco felt his face turn warm as he met Potter's gaze. He was surprised at Potter's soft expression, and stopped by the way the light flickered across his bright green eyes. Potter's lips parted, and, as if in slow motion, he leaned forward and- Draco's eyes widened, and he leaned forward just a tad, lips slightly parted, and- Potter's head turned, and he kissed Draco's cheek.</p><p>Draco blinked. The came the surging wave of embarrassment. Of course Potter wasn't going to actually kiss him! Potter pulled back, grinning slightly. His cheeks were flushed- but of course that was just because of the steamy room- he'd been pink before. Draco shook his head, then nodded briskly. </p><p>"Thank Merlin's ruddy ol' beard! Took ye long enough, ye daft- . . ." The man with the red, flat nose's voice trailed off into the sharp wind outside as he pushed past Draco and Potter, startling them both. Potter nodded quickly, then tucked in the trailing ends of his scarlet-and-gold scarf. </p><p>"Spell's broken. Let's go, then." He marched off into the flurries, shoulders hunched against the gale. As Draco made to leave as well, he felt a warm hand close around his.</p><p>Granger. Draco nearly flinched away from the Mudb- the girl, but stopped as she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and smiled comfortingly. Then the pressure of her hand was gone, entwining around Pansy's fingers as they advanced into the snowstorm together.</p><p>Draco stood there, under the mistletoe by himself, for a long moment, watching the retreating forms of his- his friends.</p><p>He saw Potter turn, saw the blurry outline of him, hidden by the constantly moving streaks of falling snow, saw him glance around for Draco. Draco saw Potter notice Draco, still standing in the doorway, and saw Potter begin making his way back to Puddifoot's. And Draco looked down at his own hand, feeling surprising warmth at the simple kindness of the girl he'd been nothing but cruel to for years, and went out to meet Potter in the storm, hopeful for the promise of the crackling fires and loud warmth of Hogwarts.</p><p>~X~</p>
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